Clown Envy
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: The Joker is furious when a movie star Harley Quinn likes is cast to play the Joker in an upcoming realistic biopic of Batman, and goes to extreme measures to prove to Harley and the world who the better Joker is. Any similarity to Joker actors living or dead is purely coincidental, and no disrespect meant for any Batman franchises. Except those directed by Joel Schumacher ;-)
1. Chapter 1

**Clown Envy**

"What's it called when you're going somewhere with a couple, and you don't wanna be the third wheel, so you invite a friend along just so you can pretend you ain't alone and unloved?"

"This a joke, J?"

"Nah, it's what you are, Kitty!" laughed the Joker. He, Harley Quinn, Selina Kyle, and Poison Ivy were first in the long line in front of the movie theater. Some people had been camping out overnight to get tickets to the film, but the moment people recognized the Joker, his group was immediately and mysteriously ushered to the front of the line.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "J, if you'll recall, Selina and I were the ones who suggested going to the movie, because we've wanted to see it since it was announced. Harley's the one who insisted that you be allowed to come too. I didn't really think it would be your cup of tea. You don't strike me as a guy who likes his rom coms."

"Well, I like my coms," replied Joker, shrugging. "Half is better than nothing, as I said to that guy when I only cut off one of his arms. And I've never said no to a little roming, eh, Harley girl?" he murmured, kissing her cheek.

"I'm sure you'll love it, Mr. J," she breathed, snuggling against him.

"Can we sit in the back row?" asked Joker. "If the movie gets boring, me and Harley can always make out."

"I don't think Harley's gonna be bored by this particular movie, J," said Ivy, smiling at Selina.

"And I don't think she's gonna be thinking about you when you're making out," continued Selina, smiling back.

They both giggled. "Something funny, ladies?" asked Joker. "And I use the term loosely. Anything you wanna share?"

"Nope," retorted Ivy. "Nothing at all, J."

They giggled again. Joker looked from one to the other, and then down at Harley, who was blushing. "It was just a stupid quiz, Mr. J, nothing for you to worry about," she murmured.

"What quiz?" demanded Joker.

"Last time Harley came over, we were reading magazines, and one of them had this quiz in it," explained Selina. "Just random questions, y'know, what's your favorite sex position, what's your most unusual fetish…"

"One of those things you regret asking after the alcohol wears off," sighed Ivy.

"And one of the questions was if you had to sleep with a celebrity, which celebrity would you pick? And Harley picked Mr. Edward Harker," said Selina, nodding at the movie poster, where an attractive, well-built young man gazed intently out at the viewer.

Joker stared at it, and then back at Harley. "You picked him?" he snapped.

"Well…he ain't a bad looking guy, Mr. J…" began Harley slowly.

"And what's wrong with me?" snapped Joker. "I'm a celebrity!"

"I picked you first, puddin', but the gals said it didn't count 'cause I was already sleeping with you," replied Harley.

"Well, then you should have just said no one," retorted Joker.

"But the question was if I _had_ to, puddin'," replied Harley. "It wouldn't have been a very fun game if I had just refused to answer…"

"It isn't a fun game!" snapped Joker. "There ain't nothing fun about it! Forcing a dame to consider who she'd cheat on her boyfriend with! It's just sick if you ask me!"

"Oh, lighten up, J," retorted Selina. "I certainly don't blame Harley. That is one hunk of man I'd love to sink my claws into," she murmured, gazing at the poster. "Handsome face, killer body, sensitive and sincere and sweet, if you see him being interviewed. Just every girl's dream really."

"Oh yeah, if he ever visits Gotham, I am wrapping my weeds around him and never letting go," sighed Ivy.

"You'll have to fight me first," retorted Selina. "And Harley. Right, Harley?" she asked, smiling at her.

Harley was still blushing. "And I had been drinking, Mr. J…" she began.

"Oh, you think that excuses it, do you?" demanded Joker. "You think that makes it better? What if this guy Harker had suddenly appeared and you'd been drinking, and you ended up in bed with him? You think you being drunk would have excused that?"

"Um…no, puddin', but it's nothing like that…" began Harley.

"It's exactly like that!" he snapped. "You've admitted that given the opportunity, you would sleep with this Harker guy…"

"If I had to, in a hypothetical situation…"

"If you had to!" he repeated. "Well, what are we talking about here, Harley? If he had a gun to your head? I sure as hell hope you'd put a bullet in your brain rather than cheat on me!"

"Of course I would, puddin', but it was just a dumb, meaningless quiz…"

"Meaningless? It means precisely what you said! If you had to sleep with a celebrity, you'd pick this guy! It means you've thought about it! It means you've considered sleeping with someone else but me! It means you've cheated on me in your mind!"

"But I haven't, puddin'!" cried Harley. "I never would…"

"Is it…um…four for _Love's Wild Fury_?" asked the man in the ticket booth, who had just arrived.

"It's three, sport," snapped Joker, striding out of the line. "You ladies enjoy your night fantasizing about this Harker guy! You're on the couch tonight, Harley!"

"Aw, puddin', don't be like that!" cried Harley, rushing after him. "I didn't mean it, really! You know I only have eyes for you – you're the only man I've ever wanted! And you're the only celebrity I'd sleep with, I swear! This guy don't mean nothing to me! I love you, puddin'! Only you!"

"It's too late, Harley," he snapped. "Just go have fun watching him! And I sure as hell hope thinking about him satisfies you, because you ain't getting nothing from me! Not tonight and not ever again!"

"But…puddin'!" cried Harley. "Puddin', please…"

"Goodbye, Harley!" he snapped, shoving her away.

Harley gazed after him with tears in her eyes, and then slowly rejoined Ivy and Selina. "Wow. What a paranoid bastard," muttered Selina.

"He ain't, Selina, don't talk about him like that," murmured Harley, wiping her eyes. "I shouldn't have made him jealous like that…it's my fault. Mr. J is right – I shouldn't consider other guys attractive…"

"Harley, people can't help finding other people attractive!" snapped Selina. "J has absolutely no reason to be insecure! There's never been a more loyal or devoted woman than you, although God knows why with the way he treats you! He's just being childish and immature and stupid!"

"No, he ain't," murmured Harley. "It's my fault, as usual. My fault."

Ivy took her by the shoulders. "Harley, just try to forget about it and enjoy the movie, ok, baby?" she said, gently.

Harley did try. But as she watched the movie, as she watched Edward Harker's character gently try to woo the girl of his dreams with tenderness and affection, she only grew more upset. She had never wanted a nice guy like that – she wanted Mr. J. But she couldn't help but feel envious of the woman as Edward Harker kissed her tenderly, and whispered to her that she was his whole world. Harley would never hear those words from the man she loved.

She didn't want that, she assured herself, as Ivy dropped her off home after the movie was over. She wanted Mr. J, just as he was. He was perfect, and she loved him madly. It was stupid of her to be weak like that, and to want something more, when she already had the most perfect man in the world. She was selfish and greedy, and she had hurt Mr. J very deeply by even considering another man attractive. She would never hurt him again, she vowed. He deserved to know how much she loved him every minute of every day. She had always tried to show him that, but she had failed. She would have to try harder.

She knocked on the door to their bedroom. The Joker opened it slowly. "How was the movie?" he asked coldly.

"Fine," replied Harley.

"Got the girl in the end, did he?" he said sarcastically.

"Yeah, Mr. J," she whispered.

"Of course he would, guy like him," retorted Joker. "Bet all the dames are crazy for him."

"I ain't, Mr. J," she murmured. "I ain't crazy for anyone but you."

He glared at her and then held the door open. The TV was on and Joker climbed back into bed, watching it without saying another word. Harley didn't either – she listened to the news as she changed into her pajamas.

"…and in entertainment news, Edward Harker has just signed on to star in the upcoming action movie based on the real-life adventures of the Batman, the Dark Knight defender of Gotham City. Harker will be playing the Batman's ultimate nemesis, the Joker, in a gritty, realistic portrayal of the horror which plagues Gotham City…"

Both Joker and Harley stared at the TV, open-mouthed. "Say…what?" gasped Joker.

"When asked about the character of the Joker, Harker had this to say," continued the newscaster, and the camera suddenly switched to interview footage of the actor: "I think the Joker is actually an incredibly disturbed man, and it's time he was seen in that light. He obviously doesn't take himself seriously, but what he does is serious harm, and no amount of over-the-top jokes and gags can conceal that. The constantly happy clown persona is a joke in itself, and one that's got old. When you get right down to it, this man in a psychopath. He kills people. We need to focus on that, and reveal the tortured soul behind the smile. And that's what I'm hoping to do – channel the man's hatred, rage, and danger. Because, let's face it, a cartoonish supervillain is a little too silly in this day and age. I'm hoping to make the Joker more accessible to the audience, more of an anarchist or terrorist, something more believable than the ridiculous clown he actually is."

Six bullets were suddenly fired into the screen. "Anarchist?!" shrieked Joker, furiously. "Terrorist?! I ain't anything as boring as that, you jumped up little pretty boy! How dare a worm like you even begin to criticize me?! Old?! Ridiculous?! Silly?! Oh, I'll show you who's silly, you little weasel! He's dead, Harley! Your boyfriend is dead!" he screamed, leaping out of bed and seizing another gun.

"Now…now calm down, puddin'…" said Harley gently, hugging him. "It's just a movie, after all…"

"A movie about me!" shouted Joker. "Why wasn't I asked to be me?! Oh, I know, because I'm a little too ridiculous to play myself, ain't that right?!"

He began firing at the TV again, emptying another round into it. "Puddin', please…"

"And that's the guy you wanna sleep with, Harl?!" he demanded. "Oh, I can see why! This Joker ain't dangerous and thrilling enough for you, is he?! You want a more relevant, accessible Joker! That's what the young people like, isn't it?! They like things to be relevant! Well, you go ahead and have him, toots! If the classic routines ain't good enough for you anymore, go find someone with a more modern sense of humor!"

"Puddin', I don't want…"

She shrieked and ducked as he seized another gun and began shooting at her. "Out, out, out, you useless waste of space!" he shouted.

She rushed from the room and he slammed the door behind her. She heard him randomly firing the gun again and sighed, heading into the living room. After staring at the wall for several minutes, she reached for the phone and dialled Poison Ivy. "Hi, Red? You seen the news? Yeah. I think we're gonna need to make a little trip to Hollywood."


	2. Chapter 2

"So are we in this movie?" asked Poison Ivy as she and Harley strolled out of the airport in Los Angeles. "If so, we need to make sure we're cast properly. I don't wanna end up with a disaster like the last time I was portrayed in a film. Some weird thing where I was blackmailing Freeze for some reason?"

"Oh yeah, I kinda remember that," said Harley, nodding. "Though I think me and Mr. J did make out through most of that one."

"Probably best, actually," agreed Ivy. "Maybe they should just stop trying to make movies about us. Or at least consult us about who we think should be cast."

"Mr. J likes that guy from _Star Wars_ playing him," said Harley. "Y'know…what's his name. 'Use the Force, Luke.' That guy."

"Oh yeah, he does do a pretty good impression," agreed Ivy. "I dunno who I'd cast for me. Rita Hayworth if she weren't dead, I guess."

"I did some acting in high school and people said I was pretty good. I reckon I could play me in a film," said Harley. "Can't be too difficult to be yourself, can it?"

"It would depend on who you are, I suppose," replied Ivy, hailing a cab.

"You ladies here to soak up the sun?" asked the cab driver as he drove them toward the studio producing the new Batman movie.

"No, we're here to save a guy's life," replied Harley. "See, he's playing my boyfriend in a movie, and my boyfriend ain't too happy about it. So we're gonna try to convince him to call it off before my boyfriend puts a bullet in his head."

The cab driver was silent. "I'd like to say that's the weirdest thing I've ever heard someone say in my cab, sweetheart," he said to Harley. "But it ain't."

"Yeah, L.A.'s a real exotic town," said Harley, nodding.

"And the weather is nice," agreed Ivy. "Much better than in Gotham. You sometimes forget what the sun looks like, living there. I mean, from the impression you get of it, most people probably think it's just perpetually night."

"Oh, you're from Gotham?" asked the cab driver. "That explains it, then. L.A.'s pretty crazy, but it ain't got nothing on Gotham. We got costumed freaks here, but they ain't violent or homicidal."

"They just don't know what they're missing," replied Harley, shrugging.

They were dropped off at the gate to the studio. Harley strode up to the guard. "Hi. I'm Harley Quinn, the Joker's girlfriend…" she began.

The guard looked at her. "You're Mr. Harker's girlfriend?" he asked.

"Um…yeah," lied Harley. "Yeah, and I just need to see my puddin' real quick, if you don't mind."

"And I'm with her," added Ivy.

The guard looked from one to the other, and then shrugged. "Well, I don't question Mr. Harker," he said. "He's pretty dangerously unstable at the moment. Method actor, y'know. Must be pretty intense being in a relationship with him, sweetheart."

"You have no idea," muttered Harley as they entered the lot.

They looked around to see a camera crew filming a scene nearby. A girl and a guy were tied to a chair by several oil drums, and the director was shouting some directions.

"There he is!" exclaimed Ivy, pointing over by a trailer. Edward Harker was standing speaking to a group of fellow actors, still recognizable despite the clown makeup he was wearing. "God, he's still hot even dressed as the clown," sighed Ivy as they went over to him. "That's talent."

"…you think it's drugs that makes him crazy? I'm thinking of going for the whole heroin addict angle…" Harker was saying as they approached.

"Um…Mr. Harker!" interrupted Harley, waving at him. "Hi…um…can I have a word?"

Harker looked up, puzzled. "Excuse me," he said, breaking away from the group. "Er…hello, ladies. Can I help you?"

"I'll say, handsome," murmured Ivy, grinning at him.

"Hi, Mr. Harker…um…this is a little difficult to explain. Can I just say first of all, we're huge fans of your work," said Harley.

"Your work and…just you. Y'know," added Ivy.

"Oh…thanks, that's very flattering," replied Harker. "It's always nice to meet fans. But I'm actually about to shoot a scene…"

"Yeah, about that…" said Harley, slowly. "Think you might wanna refrain from shooting stuff unless you wanna get…y'know…shot."

He looked blankly at her. "I'm sorry, Miss…"

"It's Quinn. Harley Quinn," said Harley. "And this is Poison Ivy."

"My friends call me Red, handsome," murmured Ivy. "And I want us to be very good friends."

He stared from one to the other. "You mean you're…actresses? I didn't think either of your characters were in this movie…the director said you were a little too…"

"No, no, I mean we're the real Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy," interrupted Harley. "From Gotham City."

"A little too what?" demanded Ivy suddenly.

"Um…I forget his exact words," said Harker.

"Well, give me the gist," snapped Ivy. "What, doesn't he think we're serious enough for a dark, gritty version of Batman? Harley's in an abusive relationship, for Christ's sake – you can't get more dark and gritty than that!"

"Just let it go, Red!" snapped Harley. "It's not why we're here!"

"May I ask why you are here?" said Harker. "It's tremendously flattering that you want to support my work, of course…"

"Actually, we don't," replied Harley. "We came here to ask you to shut it down. Mr. J…I mean, the Joker, the real Joker, he's just found out about this whole re-imagining of his character, and he ain't too pleased about it. And when Mr. J ain't too pleased about stuff, it doesn't end well for anyone involved."

Harker stared at her. "The Joker…the real Joker…objects to my portrayal?"

"Yeah…objects may not be a strong enough word for what he does," replied Harley. "He went kinda homicidal on the TV, and I think if you ain't careful, you're gonna be next."

Harker's face suddenly broke into a grin. "But…this is wonderful!" he exclaimed. "The actual Joker is disturbed by my portrayal! It means that some aspect of it is the truth! If he's threatened by me, it's more important than ever that I continue with my role, to show the world the real man behind the laughter!"

"No, I don't think it's about truth," replied Harley. "I think it's more about you calling him ridiculous and not relevant…"

"Oh, that," said Harker, waving his hand. "You can't deny, Miss Quinn, that the public is getting a little fed up of extreme personalities. Normal people can't relate to it. I want to give the audience a Joker everyone can see themselves in."

"But…don't that kinda defeat the point?" asked Harley, puzzled. "Ain't Mr. J meant to be kinda special? I mean, he is a genius and all…don't making him relatable take away his mystique a little?"

"Yes, and high time too," agreed Harker. "We don't want people to see the Joker as unstoppable or, God forbid, admirable. We do want him to fail, in the end. We want Batman to triumph over him. But that's no reason not to make him a compelling character. And you can't make compelling characters from dumb gags and cheap tricks. You have to make them deep, complex…"

"Mr. J is plenty deep and complex!" snapped Harley. "No reason you can't be deep and complex and funny too! What's the point of the Joker if you take away the funny, I'd like to know! Why don't you just create a whole new antagonist for the Bat – Lord knows there are a million of 'em! Some kind of anarchist, drug-addicted terrorist! Call him…I dunno…Terrorman! But that ain't Mr. J!"

Harker stared at her, and then smiled. "My dear Miss Quinn, you are a Godsend!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hands. "Who knows the Joker better than you? No one! You have a unique insight into his twisted, disturbed mind and persona! Would you mind terribly if I asked you to stay a few days so I can consult you? I just feel the need to completely inhabit this character, and you are the only one who can help me with that. And I appreciate your warning, really, but this is the role I was born to play, and I will play it. The threat of danger only makes the incentive stronger. This is a version of the Joker the world needs to see. The abuser, the helpless, dependent shell of a man. You must tell me all about him as he truly is, Miss Quinn. Please."

"I…um…I dunno, Mr. Harker…"

"Edward, please," he said. "Or Eddie, if you prefer."

"All right…Eddie…" said Harley, slowly. "I…um…wouldn't feel that comfortable sharing private information about Mr. J. And I really wouldn't feel comfortable letting you continue with this film when I know Mr. J is after your blood…"

"Harley, a word with you alone," said Ivy, grabbing her arm and dragging her away. "What are you doing?!" she hissed. "Edward Harker is asking us to stay with him so he can consult us! Even if you have no interest in him, I do, and I'm not leaving without results!"

"But Red, Mr. J…"

"One of us can stay with him to protect him from J," interrupted Ivy. "I volunteer. Anyway, the guy's got body guards! And he's clearly the determined type! He's not going to be talked out of this! Now just say yes or I swear to God you won't survive the plane ride home!"

"O…K," agreed Harley, slightly unnerved by the look in Ivy's eyes. She returned to Harker. "Um…Eddie…yeah, that'd be great. We'll go find a hotel…"

"Oh no, ladies, you'll be staying at my hotel," he insisted. "I need you on hand if I need to get into character at short notice. If you want to stay and watch the scene, I'd appreciate any feedback you have, and then we'll go. And thank you both. I'm so grateful."

"Anytime, Eddie," sighed Ivy as he walked off.

"This is a bad idea, Red," murmured Harley as they watched the scene. "Mr. J ain't gonna like this. Not one little bit."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ah, sunshine! Clean air!" exclaimed the Joker, emerging from the plane in L.A. He took a deep breath and started coughing. "Oooh, I hate it," he muttered. "Gotta replace the dirt and grime in my lungs before all this fresh air kills me," he said, lighting a cigar. He inhaled the smoke deeply and sighed. "Now that's better!"

He whistled happily as he strode out of the airport, looking around for a cab. "Um…excuse me," said a voice. The Joker turned to see a man studying him. "Er…hi…you probably get this all the time, but my girlfriend's a huge fan of yours," he said. "Would you mind signing an autograph?"

The Joker stared at him. "Your girlfriend?" he repeated. Then he grinned. "Well, she's got good taste, sport! It's not usually me the dames fancy, though, I'll be honest…"

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," replied the man. "You're being modest or something, which is nice, but not necessary. I'm not gay or anything, but I can certainly understand the attraction."

"Yeah?" said Joker, smiling. "You ain't on Team Bats?"

"Oh please, it's just some guy in a mask," said the man, shrugging. "You're the one with the talent."

"Sweetie, there you are!" exclaimed an attractive girl, rushing over to them.

"Honey, look who it is!" cried the man, gesturing at Joker.

The girl looked at him. "Who is it?" she asked, turning to the man, puzzled.

"C'mon, are you blind? The Joker? It's Edward Harker!" exclaimed the man.

The girl studied him distastefully. "That's not Edward Harker, sweetheart. Edward Harker's Joker isn't ugly. This is just some old guy in clown makeup. Now c'mon, I got the car parked over by the laundromat…"

Without another word, Joker ripped out his gun and shot them both in the head. Then he calmly bent down and took the car keys from the woman's hand. "Thanks for the lift, sweets," he muttered, biting down angrily on his cigar as he strode off.

"Mr. Harker!" exclaimed the guard as the Joker drove up to the gate. "I thought you were already shooting!"

"Yeah, I did do some shooting, but I still got some more to do," replied Joker, grinning. "If you wanna just lift up that barrier, pal…"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Harker, sir," replied the man, obeying him. Joker drove onto the lot and got out, looking around.

"Hi, excuse me, can you tell me where they're recording the Batman stuff?" he asked a passing techie.

"Er…yeah…studio nine," said the techie, gesturing to a building on the left. "Room 17."

"Thanks," he said, striding inside. "Don't look much like a film set to me, but then I ain't an actor," he said, as he walked past several very ordinary-looking rooms. He reached Room 17, pulled out his gun, and then kicked open the door.

"Who's the ridiculous and silly one now…" he began, smiling, but his face suddenly fell when he saw that the room was empty of anyone but two men, obviously not Edward Harker, wearing headsets and speaking into microphones. "Oh…sorry…wrong room…" he said.

"Carl, who is this clown?" demanded a man seated behind a panel of glass, clearly the director. "And how did he get in here without a permit?"

"I…erm…think it's the Joker, sir," stammered an intern.

"Yep, that's me!" replied Joker, grinning. "Sorry to interrupt, boys…"

"Mark, Kevin, take five," snapped the director.

"Oh, hey, it's you!" exclaimed the Joker as one of the men passed him, leaving the room. "I'm a huge fan of yours! Got a joke for you – you've probably heard this one before, but what does the dentist say to you after your checkup? May the floss be with you!" He laughed hysterically. "Hey, you're a great sport - you keep up the good work, buddy!" he said, clapping him on the back.

"Can I help you, Mr. Joker?" asked the director, coming over to him.

"Yeah, I think I just got lost – I'm looking for the place where they're recording the new Batman stuff, and the guy told me here…"

"Well, we are recording voices for the new Batman video game, so he was sorta right," replied the director. "But if you mean the movie, that's being filmed on the soundstage over on the other lot. Didn't know you were a fan."

"I'm not," retorted Joker. "Which I why I wanna find this thing and put a stop to it before it can be released on an unsuspecting public."

"Yeah, I had a feeling you wouldn't be too happy with some young, attractive heartthrob playing you," said the director, nodding. "But maybe he'll do a good job."

"A good job?" repeated Joker. "He ain't even playing me! He's playing some weird, realistic version of me! He called real me silly and ridiculous and over-the-top! Over-the-top, me, I ask you!" he exclaimed, taking a seat. The sound of a whoopie cushion was heard, and the Joker suddenly threw it at the glass, where it exploded.

"Now what on earth is over-the-top about an exploding whoopie cushion?" he demanded, turning to the director.

"N…nothing," said the director, slowly, wondering if the recording equipment was still working.

"They're classic routines, pally, just like I'm classic Joker!" snapped Joker. "And I don't care if the public are sick of classic Joker – I ain't changing for nothing or no one! If this jerk thinks he can ruin my reputation by making me all serious and gritty, he's got another think coming! You love me, you love my gags. Simple."

"Yes, well, why don't you go take it up with…"

The phone rang at that moment. "Carl, get that!" snapped the director.

The intern picked it up. "Hello? Oh yeah, I can do that for ya. What names? Oh right, the real them. Uh huh. And what on the badges? Creative consultants. Ok, I'll have 'em ready by tomorrow. Ok, bye."

He hung up the phone. "That was security – they need me to go make ID badges for Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy…"

"For who?" snapped Joker. "What the hell are they doing here?"

"Apparently they're creative consultants on the new Batman movie," replied the intern. "On personal request from Edward Harker."

"Creative consultants," murmured Joker, quietly. "Creative consultants."

He seized the intern around the throat. "You know what that means, doncha?" he snapped. "It means that not only is Harker trying to steal my identity, he's also trying to steal my girl! Well, I ain't gonna let him do either! I'm gonna teach him to mess with the Clown Prince of Crime! This calls for a better death than just shooting him in the head! This calls for a joke, a real killer gag! And trust me, he ain't gonna be laughing!"

He dropped the intern to the ground and left the room, laughing hysterically. They both watched him leave and then the director turned to the intern. "You know, they're right," he murmured. "He does sound a lot like Mark."


	4. Chapter 4

"Wow, look at all these actors!" exclaimed Harley, staring around wide-eyed as she and Ivy wandered the film set. "It's like a who's who of Hollywood's elite! Look, there's God!" she exclaimed excitedly, pointing at an older actor.

"I don't think he's actually God, Harley," retorted Ivy. "I think he just played him in a movie."

"Well, how do you know?" asked Harley, defensively. "You ain't ever seen God and him in the same room, have you? And I've always imagined God having his kinda soothing voice. And liking penguins."

"Uh huh," said Ivy, not really listening as she looked around for Edward Harker. She spotted him rehearsing not far away and dragged Harley over. The man opposite Harker was speaking some lines through a strained voice.

"He might wanna get that sore throat looked at," whispered Harley to Ivy.

"And cut!" snapped the director. "Miss Quinn, would you kindly refrain from talking when the camera is rolling? It picks up everything!"

"Sorry," said Harley, sincerely. "I didn't know you were filming."

"Mr. Harker likes to film even his rehearsals, to study his performance in his spare time and improve it," snapped the director.

"Geez, he's a real committed guy," said Harley, impressed.

"I am, but it's fine, Chris, I'm needing a break anyway," said Harker, smiling at him. "Can we resume in ten minutes?"

The director nodded and walked off. "You could try gargling for that throat, buddy," said Harley as the other actor left them. He looked at them strangely.

"Um…no, I'm fine," he said in a normal voice. "It's just for my character."

"Yeah? Who are you supposed to be?" asked Harley, puzzled.

"I'm Batman," he retorted.

Harley shared a look with Ivy, and then smiled. "Of course you are," she replied, beaming until he left. Then she sighed, shaking her head.

"How are you ladies this morning?" asked Harker, picking up his water bottle. "I hope you both slept well. I'm sorry I didn't say hello at breakfast, but I wanted to get straight to the set and start working."

"Oh, it's no problem, Eddie," replied Ivy, smiling at him. "You've got real passion. You should never apologize for that."

"Well, like I said, this is a really important role for me," he replied. "One I feel I was born to play. But I'm glad you're here – I could use your advice for a couple scenes."

"That's why we're here, Eddie," said Ivy, beaming at him.

"I'm filming my next one with Two-Face…"

"Harvey's in this movie?" exclaimed Ivy. She grew angry again. "Oh yeah, so I'm ridiculous and unrealistic, but a guy whose face gets split into exactly two halves isn't!"

"They used to date – it's a little awkward," whispered Harley to Harker.

"Well, if you'd like to meet our Two-Face, I'm sure he can explain to you where he's taking the character," said Harker, pointing over to a trailer at an attractive actor studying his lines.

Ivy stared at the actor, open-mouthed. "Wow…he is so much hotter than Harvey, even with half a face!"

"You're perfectly welcome to go say hello," replied Harker, smiling. "He doesn't bite."

Ivy didn't need to be asked twice. "You might regret that. Red's a bit of man-eater," said Harley to Harker.

"Yes, I know," he replied, smiling at her. "And I have to confess I deliberately set her on him so we could have some time alone, to discuss my character."

"Oh yeah, Mr. J," said Harley, looking around suddenly. "Kinda weird that he hasn't appeared yet, actually. He ain't a very subtle guy – I was expecting him to come crashing through the barrier, guns blazing and saying he's shooting a scene, or maybe set up an explosion and talk about the film bombing. Those are his kinda gags."

"Yes, tell me about his gags," replied Harker. "Is it only violence and mayhem he finds amusing?"

"Yeah, mostly," agreed Harley. "He's a real slapstick fan. If a joke ends with someone dead or in pain, that usually puts a smile on his face. He's got a real unique sense of humor."

"I see," said Harker. He was silent for a moment and then said, "This may be a bit of personal question, but what is your attraction to the man? If someone like you can love him, there must be something to love, although I'm struggling to find what that is. Is he more emotionally vulnerable in private? Does he share things with you, things about his past, why he is the way he is?"

"Nah, I don't think Mr. J really remembers a lotta his past," replied Harley. "And as for being emotionally vulnerable…no, no, he just ain't. Ain't really big on emotions of any kind, really."

"But he does love you?" asked Harker.

"Oh yeah, of course he does," replied Harley, nodding. "He just don't show it a lot. But he don't have to, I know he does. That's the strongest kinda love, see, when you don't actually have to show affection because you know the person you're with will stick with you through anything, even when you act like a total jerk. He knows I'll always love him, so he don't need to show me affection."

"Isn't that more taking you for granted rather than loving you?" asked Harker, puzzled.

"Well, I guess," replied Harley, shrugging. "But being taken for granted is pretty flattering, really. It just shows you how much he needs me. He expects me to be there, y'see, I'm an indispensible part of his life. Something he knows will always be around. I mean, I guess I'd be worried if he didn't take me for granted, because it would mean he thought he might lose me someday."

"But what attracts him to you exactly, Harley? The lure of power? Of danger? Stockholm Syndrome?" asked Harker. "I just can't logically figure it out."

"Um…no, nothing like that," replied Harley. "I just love him. I don't think you can logically figure that out. And I don't think I can really explain it very well, I just…he makes me happy. He puts a smile on my face, and makes me laugh the way nobody else can. I love him."

Harker smiled gently at her. "You deserve a much better Joker, Harley Quinn," he murmured.

"Eddie, ready to resume?" asked the director, coming over to them.

"Oh…yes," stammered Harker, shaking his head. "Just give me a minute to get back into character."

He put his head in his hands and began laughing slightly, licking his lips, and then picked up a pencil and began twirling it nervously. "What's that?" asked Harley, pointing.

"Miss Quinn, please…" began the director.

"I thought I'd give him a couple nervous tics," explained Harker. "Licking lips, playing with objects…"

"Yeah, well, the Freudian in me don't want any version of Mr. J to play with pencils," retorted Harley. "If people start to analyze it, they might get the wrong impression. There's already a lotta talk about him and the Bat, a lotta wrong talk, by the way. Anyway, Mr. J wouldn't just keep fiddling with the pencil – he'd probably stab it into someone's eye. Say something like 'wanna see a magic trick? I'm gonna make this pencil disappear,' and then slam it into their head."

Harker stared at her. "That's good, Chris, can we use that?" he asked turning to the director.

"Whatever you want, Eddie, it's your character," replied the director.

"No, it's Harley's character," replied Harker, smiling at her. "She's the one who knows him best. I'll be over in a second, Chris."

The director left, and Harker took Harley's hand. "Harley, we don't have the time now, but if you'd like to come to my hotel room later tonight, I would like to speak to you some more about the Joker. Would that be possible?"

"Oh…yeah…sure, Eddie," replied Harley, slowly. "You're a real dedicated guy, y'know. Not many people would work this hard trying to be Mr. J in their time off."

He smiled. "Well, I just want to fully understand and inhabit him, Harley," he replied. "Every aspect of him."

He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later," he said, heading off toward the camera. Harley gazed after him, and then touched her cheek tenderly, smiling.

"Yeah, see you later…Eddie," she breathed.


	5. Chapter 5

Harley knocked on the door to Harker's hotel room. He opened it, in full Joker makeup and costume. "Oh…evening, Eddie. Still in character, I see," she said, entering the room.

"Yes, and you must call me Mr. J, Harley," he said. "Or puddin'. Isn't that your name for me?" he asked, smiling.

"Erm…it's my name for Mr. J, yeah," said Harley, slowly.

"But I am Mr. J," replied Harker. "That is exactly who I am trying to be. You must act towards me as you would act towards him. It's very important to my understanding of the character."

"Oh…yeah…sure, Eddie…I mean, Mr. J," she replied. "I guess it is kinda fun to be with Mr. J, and yet not Mr. J," she said, smiling at him. "I mean, with the makeup and all, you look kinda like Mr. J. And kinda not. I can still see Edward Harker under the makeup. It's like I've got both you and Mr. J standing in front of me. Kinda the man of my dreams, really," she laughed.

Harker looked at her. "I thought I was the man of your dreams, Harley," he murmured.

"Oh…of course you are, puddin'," replied Harley. "That's good, actually, Mr. J does get jealous…"

"Do you know why I get jealous, Harley?" he asked quietly.

"Um…no, Mr. J," she replied. "It does seem kinda odd, because you know I've never even looked at another guy…"

"It's because I'm scared, Harley," he interrupted.

"Scared? But you ain't scared of nothing, Mr. J," she replied.

"I pretend I'm not," he agreed. "But it's all a joke, Harley. I smile and laugh so I don't cry at the insanity of life."

"But you love the insanity of life, puddin'!" said Harley. "You think it's hilarious! The world's on the funhouse slide into madness, you always say that. And you love funhouse slides! And madness!"

"It's all an act, Harley," he whispered. "All the smiles and laughter, all an act, a joke, to hide the frightened, insecure, wreck of a man I am. Do you know why I treat you so horribly, Harley?"

"Because you got a temper on you, puddin', just like I do," replied Harley. "Because we're soulmates…"

"No. It's because deep down I know I don't deserve you," he whispered. "I keep pushing you away because I know you should leave me. I hurt you again and again because I keep hoping one day you'll just snap and go, which is what I want, but also what I fear most in the world. I need you, Harley Quinn," he whispered, taking her hands. "I need you to build up my fragile ego, I need your love and reassurance to validate myself. I need your laughter at my jokes, or they're not funny. They're just hollow and empty. My life is empty without you in it."

"Um…no offense, but this don't really sound like something Mr. J would say…" began Harley.

"No, not what he would say, but what he should say," whispered Harker, stroking her hair back. "If he were a better man, if he were a little more human. It's what he…what I should tell you every moment of every day. I love you, Harley Quinn. You deserve to hear those words, and I'm a fool for not giving them to you as often as possible. I love you. You're my whole world."

"Batman's…your whole world," she whispered, tears in her eyes at the sincerity in Harker's face.

"Batman is a hobby that has turned into an obsession," he murmured. "An unhealthy obsession. An addiction. And like all addicts, I pretend that I don't need help, but I do. I need you to save me from him, Harley. I hate him, and my hatred for him is consuming me. I need your love to save me. You are my strength and my soul, the only part of me that is good."

"No…no, I ain't good, puddin'," she whispered. "And neither are you. That's why I love you."

He took her face in his hands, smiling. "You're perfect, Harley," he whispered. "So perfect…"

"I…I ain't perfect, Mr. J," whispered Harley, gazing back at him. "You shouldn't say that…you wouldn't say that…"

"You are to me," he whispered. "To me you are perfection."

She shut her eyes. "I…don't want you to say this kinda stuff, Mr. J. This ain't like you. And I love you, just as you are. I don't want a nice, sweet guy who adores me. I don't want…"

And suddenly he was kissing her, gently, tenderly, sincerely. Harley had never had a kiss like that before, and she was too stunned to respond to it. "Don't you?" he whispered, drawing away.

"N…no," she stammered, shaking her head. "No, I…I want Mr. J. I love Mr. J."

"I am Mr. J," he whispered.

"You…you ain't Mr. J," she breathed. "But you are. You…"

He kissed her again, fiercely, and pressed her down on the sofa…


	6. Chapter 6

Bud Rogers had been a nightwatchman at the same hotel for the past twenty years. It was a living, he guessed, but that didn't mean he was at all satisfied with his life. He had to deal mostly with celebrities, movie star divas who thought themselves better than everyone else, and showed it by their actions. Didn't even wish him a good evening most of the time. And sitting all night staring at a bunch of security cameras tended to ruin your eyes after awhile. But then so did squinting at a newspaper in artificial light, which is what he was doing right now. Reading anything, even the opinion pages, was better than just staring bored at those cameras.

"So how 'bout them Dodgers?" asked a voice.

"Lost 9-6 to the Giants, actually," he said, looking up. His face suddenly froze in horror as he recognized the smiling face of the Joker standing in front of his desk.

"Gee, that's a shame," he said, taking the paper from him and glancing at the sports page. "Guess they need more practice with bats. I know a guy they could meet!" he chuckled.

Bud still gazed at him in horror. "It's a joke – you can laugh," snapped Joker. "Bats? Me? Get it?"

"Oh yeah…uh…that's a good one," stammered Bud.

He was silent, gazing at Joker in terror. "Must get pretty boring guarding this dump," he said. "Wanna cigar?"

"Er…no…thank you," replied Bud, slowly.

"Suit yourself. Don't mind if I smoke, do you?" he asked.

"Uh…no, go right ahead."

Joker lit a cigar. "So what's your name, pally?"

"Um…Bud Rogers."

"You been a guard here long?"

"About…twenty years."

"Yeah? And you ain't gone crazy yet? You're a better man than me!" chuckled Joker. "I could never do this 9 to 5, daily grind crap – I get bored. Guess you ain't got the type of mind that gets bored, huh, Bud?"

"Uh…no?"

"No. You're probably pretty easily satisfied with your lot in life, don't got a lotta ambition – got a job and a family, probably. Got a family?"

"Er…yes. Wife and kids."

"Got a routine, got your paper, probably go to the game on the weekends," continued Joker, nodding. "Yeah, you got a fine life for your kinda mind. Small, sane, boring. Better you than me, but I guess the world needs small-minded wage slaves like you to keep it running. God forbid we descend into chaos and anarchy. I ain't a fan of anarchy, despite how certain actors might interpret me. If we're all running around being crazy, what separates the truly crazy, the inspired, mad geniuses like me, from the pathetic little runts like you? Nothing. No, I like my madness, but I like an order to it, a hierarchy. Not everyone can be the Joker, and not everyone should try. You get that, right?"

"Sure…right."

"But see, there are people going around trying to impersonate me, Bud," said Joker. "Trying to pretend to be me, and frankly, they're giving the Joker a bad name. I don't like it. Well, how would you feel if people went around trying to act like you, but started doing and saying things you would never say or do? It would be hard to deal with, right?"

"…yeah."

"Yeah. So this guy who's going around trying to be me, this Edward Harker, he's staying here, right?"

"Oh yeah, he's…in the suite."

"Is he? That's very helpful, Bud. Nice guy, is he?"

"Oh…yeah, well, compared to most of the celebrites we get, he's…yeah, he's decent. A little…" He looked at Joker, wondering if he should use the word. "A little crazy, though. Gets really into his roles."

Joker shook his head, sighing. "Can you imagine what it's like having that kinda obsessive personality? Losing your identity so completely in some ridiculous persona – I tell ya, Bud, I pity the bastards."

He inhaled his cigar. "So this guy Harker, he's got security in his suite, right?"

"I don't think I'm allowed to…"

"Aw, c'mon, Bud, you've been in this job twenty years!" exclaimed Joker. "Time to break a few rules! Live a little! Important to seize life while you can, ain't it? You never know when you'll end up dead, especially if there's a mentally unstable guy with a gun standing in front of you," he said, pulling out his gun and smiling.

"What…what do you want me to do?" asked Bud.

"Nothing illegal, I promise you, Bud," replied Joker. "Don't want ya to lose your cushy job on my account! How would I sleep at night with that kinda guilt on my conscience? I just need you to tell me what kinda security measures this Harker has in place, and how I can get around them. That's all."

"His…bodyguards don't stay with him," stammered Bud. "But he's got cameras all over his suite. These ones here," he said, gesturing to the images on the wall behind him. "He likes to film everything because he sometimes gets into character even when he's not on set, and he likes to have his performances captured for future reference. He's got…"

But he noticed that the Joker was staring past him with an intense look on his face, clearly not listening to a word he said. Bud turned around slowly to see that one of the cameras was displaying the image of Edward Harker kissing a woman, whom he was pressing down on the couch. A woman in clown makeup.

"Is that…" began Bud, but the Joker had already gone over to the wall and seized an axe, which was meant to be used to break the glass on the fire alarm in case of emergencies.

"Guy wants to be me, does he?" he muttered. "Well, I'm gonna go up there and do a gritty, realistic tribute to another guy who impersonated me in the 80s. I'm gonna go all _Shining_ on his ass. Here's Joker!" he exclaimed, laughing hysterically.

He put the axe over his shoulder and headed for the elevator. "Thanks for the baseball score, Bud! Love to the wife and kids!" he called.

Bud stared after him for a moment, and then rushed out the door. He would never complain about his life again.


	7. Chapter 7

The Joker whistled as he rode up in the elevator, ignoring the looks of terror from the other people trapped inside a small, metal box with a homicidal maniac carrying an axe. "Don't mind me, folks, I'm just on my way to chop down a tree! A certain Edwood!" he chuckled. "Ah, Edwood! That's a good one! I kill myself sometimes!"

He got out at the top floor, still laughing, and went to the door of the suite, raising the axe.

Before he could bring it down, he suddenly heard the sound of something being smashed, and then several firm punches. "Now get offa me, you filthy creep!" came Harley's voice. "I ain't that kinda girl! What, you think just because you look a little like him and can sweet-talk me that I'll be up for cheating on my boyfriend?! I don't care how into character you are, you ain't Mr. J, and I ain't gonna make ha ha with anyone except him! The real Mr. J, Eddie, you got that?! Not your vulnerable wreck of a man, not your addict, not your Terrorman! My Mr. J, who's funny and cruel and emotionally distant and cranky and handsome and adorable and perfect! I admire your commitment, I really do, but unless you wanna end up committed in a hospital, you leave me outta your creepy characterization, all right?! Goodnight, Eddie!"

The door suddenly opened and Harley stormed from the room. She froze when she saw Joker poised holding an axe above his head next to the door. "What the hell are you doing?!" she demanded.

"I was…uh…gonna…do a _Shining _tribute, pooh," replied Joker. "And then I was gonna chop him and you up into tiny pieces…"

"Why? Cause you been spying on me?!" she demanded. "Cause you trust me so little you actually thought I would cheat on you?!"

"Hey, you admitted you would in that quiz!" shouted Joker. "And it looked pretty incriminating to me, toots, you gotta admit…"

"For the last time, it was a stupid, meaningless quiz, Mr. J!" she shrieked. "And I was drunk when I took it, and I still picked you first! I only said Eddie to shut Red and Selina up, because I knew they found him attractive and I thought making them focus on him would change the subject! Which it did, thank you! You should know by now that I don't like other guys but you, I don't think about other guys but you, and I don't want other guys but you! But you are such an insecure, jealous freak…"

"I am not insecure!" he snapped.

"Oh, please! You probably do need me to validate your existence, just like Eddie said!" snapped Harley.

"Is that what you think, you dumb blonde?!" he shouted. "Well, think again! I don't need you! I don't need anyone, especially not a stupid, useless, complete little waste of space like you!"

"Say that again, you bastard!" hissed Harley.

He leaned forward. "I said I don't need a stupid, useless, complete little waste of space like…"

She suddenly seized his face in her hands and kissed him passionately. "Oh, Mr. J," she breathed, drawing away and gazing at him in adoration. "Nobody can make a girl feel worthless like you can!"

"You like that, don't you, you little minx?" he murmured, grinning at her.

"Mmm hmm," she breathed. "You should do some more dirty talk, puddin', to get me in the mood. Tell me how annoying and incompetant I am, and how you hate me. That's what my Joker says. That's how I really love to be spoken to."

He picked her up and carried her back to her room. "You've been a very naughty girl, Harley," he murmured, smiling at her. "Fortunately Daddy's here to give you your punishment. And he's brought an axe to spank you with."

"I prefer playing with the whoopie cushion, but any toys will do," replied Harley, grinning.

"You're going to make me go through a lot of effort just to punish you, so I hope you're happy," retorted Joker. "I hate you, Harley."

She beamed and kissed him. "I love you too, Mr. J."


	8. Chapter 8

Poison Ivy's date with the actor playing Two-Face had come to an abrupt end when his girlfriend showed up. Ivy had slipped away during the ensuing screaming match and now returned to the hotel, frustrated in her hopes for that evening. "The guy's a colossal disappointment, just like the real Harvey," she muttered, pressing the button on the elevator angrily. "In that way he's perfectly cast."

She stepped out of the elevator to the sound of screaming. "Oh, Mr. J! Oh, puddin'! Spank me harder, Daddy, I'm such a bad girl! Oh…oh yes, my Joker! My one and only Joker!"

Ivy stared at the door to Harley's room, wondering for a moment which particular Joker she was in there with. A moment later, she heard a man cry out, and then the real Joker's voice furiously shouting, "You stupid little brat! You do that again and I'm gonna chop your legs off and shove them down your throat!"

"Sorry, puddin', I thought you liked it when I bit down…"

"I do, but that's a very sensitive area, pooh, and you have to handle it with care."

"…your back, Mr. J?"

"Yeah, I got a bad back! It ain't surprising since I'm always being thrown against walls by some bully in a bat costume, and the least you can do is be a little gentle, you dumb blonde!"

"Sorry, puddin'…"

Ivy heard the sound of a slap, and then Harley's adoring voice saying, "Oh, Mr. J, hit me again!"

The continuing punches left no doubt in Ivy's mind which Joker she was in there with. But as her room was next door to Harley's, and as she didn't want to be in there when the two of them were loudly enjoying themselves, she took the elevator back downstairs to the hotel bar. She was surprised and delighted to see Mr. Edward Harker there, nursing a drink and still in his clown makeup. That didn't deter Ivy.

"Eddie, what are you doing down here?" she asked.

"Oh, hello, Pammie," he sighed. "I lost the girl of my dreams to another guy tonight, so I thought I'd do what most people do in that situation, and get drunk. Bring me another, Lloyd," he said to the bartender.

"Do you mean…Harley?" asked Ivy, slowly.

"Yeah, Harley," he sighed.

"Oh. Didn't know you had a thing for her, Eddie…" said Ivy, slowly.

"Oh, I don't. But the Joker does," sighed Harker. "And that's who I am at the moment. I mean, much as I try to deny it, treating her terribly and abusing her and everything, I do love her, y'know. And the fact that I've lost her is absolutely unbearable. I can't smile without her smile. It's only now that I've realized the joke of my existence without her. And I don't feel like laughing. I'm a clown on the verge of tears, Pammie. Is there anything more tragic?"

"Erm…no," said Ivy, her thoughts racing madly. She needed to invent a lie right now. The means were not going to be pleasant, but she had no doubt the end would justify it. She cleared her throat. "Y'know…J…even though you lost Harley, it don't mean that there ain't another perfect woman out there for you…"

"Oh, who could be more perfect for me than Harley?" sighed Harker. "I created her in my image. She was made to be the Joker's girlfriend. My girlfriend," he sighed.

"Yeah, but…y'know…we've always kinda had a little thing, J," said Ivy, sliding her hand onto his.

Harker stared at her. "We…have?"

"Oh yeah. Doncha remember that night in…Metropolis? In the…er…botanical gardens? Just you, me, and a bed of ficuses."

He was gazing at her in surprise. "Really? You and the Joker had a…fling?"

Ivy kept her forced smile, hoping to God that he was drunk enough that he wouldn't remember any of this conversation in the morning. "Oh, not just the one. Many, many times."

"But I always thought you hated each other…"

"Oh please, you can't hate each other that much without secretly wanting each other!" lied Ivy, waving her hand. "It's all just an act – you being an actor must understand that. But I actually have a thing for guys who look like clowns," she murmured, running a finger down his cheek. "You wouldn't be interested, would you, handsome?"

He looked at her. "Just how many times have you and the Joker…erm…me, done this?"

"I'll let you know when we reach it," whispered Ivy, standing up and smiling seductively. "Coming, J?"

He grinned at her. "I will be, baby," he murmured, following her.

"Y'know, that's exactly something the real J would say," replied Ivy.

"Well, I'm doing this to understand his character," replied Harker. "So I have to do it in his character."

"Yeah…J's character during sex is a lot different than J in general," invented Ivy hastily. "He doesn't act like himself at all, no jokes or gags or anything. And he doesn't actually talk, so you can drop the voice."

"But he does look like this, right?" asked Harker. "His makeup's permanent."

"Yeah," sighed Ivy in resignation. She gazed at Harker and then shrugged as she led him upstairs. She would just keep her eyes shut or something. "But I can deal with that."


	9. Chapter 9

"What the hell do you suppose is keeping room service?" demanded Joker the next morning, glancing at his watch. "We ordered breakfast about an hour ago!"

"They're probably pretty busy, puddin'. I don't mind the delay," murmured Harley, cuddling against him. "We could do a little more exercise to work up an appetite," she murmured, sliding a finger up his chest.

"I'm already starving, Harley," he retorted, shoving her away. "And you know I get cranky when I'm hungry."

"Must be hungry all the time then," she muttered.

"What did you say, you worthless broad?" he snapped.

"I said I love you so much, puddin'!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck again and kissing him.

"Harley, get off!" he snapped. "I can't call them with you slobbering all over me!" He picked up the phone and dialled room service. "Hi, this is the Joker. I ordered breakfast about an hour ago? Um, no, it ain't. And I can assure _you_ it didn't get here. Well, I dunno what happened to it, just send another one! No, I ain't paying for two – I haven't had my first one yet! Don't take that tone of voice with me, young man, or I'll come down there and beat your skull in with your phone! Hello? Oooh…that does it," he muttered, grabbing his clothes and dressing hastily. "Nobody hangs up on the Joker! Kids these days – no manners! It's time Uncle Joker taught him some!"

He opened the door to see a man with a trolley knocking on the room next door. The door was opened a second later by a man in clown makeup. "Order for the Joker…" the man with the trolley began, but froze as he noticed both Jokers. They suddenly noticed each other, there was a mutual cry of recognition, and a second later they both had their guns out, aiming them at each other's identical faces.

"Erm…which one of you is the Joker?" asked the man with the trolley, puzzled.

"I am!" they both shouted at once.

"Uh…the real Joker?"

"I am!" they both repeated.

"You are not, you little liar!" shrieked Joker. "I'm superior to you in every way! I'm a better dresser, for one – real men wear bow ties, you freak!"

"Oh yeah, well at least I don't wear orange!" snapped Harker. "That ain't a flattering color on anyone, y'know, and it makes you look like you're wearing a high vis jacket!"

"I can't expect a reefer like you to understand fashion! The drugs have obviously made you blind, as well as addling your brain!"

"Do you even know what reefer means?! You're past your prime, grandpa, so why don't you just retire before you hurt yourself?!"

"Grandpa?! At least I can get a girlfriend, pal! And maybe if you tried washing your hair once in a while, you could too, you greasy slob!"

"Why don't you just go set off some whoopie cushions at kids' parties?! They're the only audience who thinks that kinda crap is funny, after all!"

"And why don't you just go back to playing gay cowboys, ya pansy!"

"Did you even watch the movie?! We were sheep herders!"

"No, I ain't got any interest in a film where two guys get it on! I don't swing that way!"

"That's not what I hear about you and Batman! I'm really gonna play up the homo-eroticism between you two in the film, by the way – it's the only aspect of your personality I can really understand! Your behavior toward him completely makes sense once you realize you're in love with him!"

Joker threw down the gun, holding up his fists. "All right, pretty boy, them's fighting words! Let's settle this man to man, right here, right now!"

In response, Harker threw him a hard blow to the face. They were soon in the middle of a fight. The noise of the struggle alerted both Harley and Ivy, who rushed from their rooms to see what was going on. "Mr. J! Stop it!" shrieked Harley, trying to pull Joker off him.

"Eddie, I mean, J, I mean…both of you stop fighting!" shouted Ivy, joining Harley in trying to separate them.

"Um…which one of you is paying for breakfast?" asked the man with the trolley, quietly. "And I understood you were checking out today, so I brought the combined bill, plus the bar tab…it's a total of $10,928.63 for the Joker?"

The real Joker immediately released Harker. "You heard the man – he's the real Joker," he said. "I'm just some guy in clown makeup. C'mon, Harley doll, let's blow this popsicle stand."

He grabbed her hand and dragged her back toward his room, popping his head out again. "And just so you know, if I were on form, I would immediately follow that statement with some kinda explosion involving ice creams. Because that's the kinda funny guy I am!"

"Puns aren't funny!" snapped Harker.

Joker's eyes narrowed. "Take it back, you uncultured buffoon…" he began, starting forward again, but Harley grabbed his arm and dragged him back into the room. "He hasn't seen the last of me, Harley!" shouted Joker. "I'll get you for that, you tasteless creep! I'll show you how funny puns can be, and I'll show you who the real Joker is, you cheap knockoff!"

"Geez, why so serious?" muttered Harker, returning to his room. His face suddenly lit up in a grin. "Oh, I am definitely using that!"


	10. Chapter 10

"I don't understand why you both can't be the Joker," said Harley, as she watched the real Joker preparing a very complex trap for Edward Harker, hammering in a nail while balancing on a beam. "Can't you just find it flattering that he wants to be you, and enjoy a different interpretation of your character which can only add to your popularity?"

"No," snapped Joker. "I'm the Joker. There can be only one."

He paused. "That's a thing, right, Harley?"

"Yeah, it's _Highlander_, Mr. J."

"See? I knew it was a thing. Ain't past my prime at all," he muttered, picking up a wrench. "And anyway, what if this Harker Joker becomes more popular than me? What if people start to love him more than classic Joker? I don't think I can deal with that kinda rejection from my adoring public, Harley."

"Oh…yeah, Mr. J?" asked Harley, slowly. "So you are kinda…emotionally dependent on your audience?"

"Emotionally what? No, of course not!" he snapped. "I just mean if there turn out to be about a million fans of this guy, I can't conceivably go around killing all of them! I simply don't have the time!"

He stepped back, admiring his handiwork with a smile. "What do you think, Harley girl?" he asked, turning to her.

"Um…what's it supposed to be, Mr. J?" Harley asked, puzzled.

"You blind? It's a gag!"

"I don't…um…get it," said Harley, slowly.

He sighed heavily. "Guess I'll have to explain the joke. But you know how I hate doing that, Harley."

"You can spank me for it later, puddin'," she breathed.

He patted her head fondly. "It's a fungeon, pooh!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "See, ya trap Harker in this little room here. And we got…" He went over to the wall and pulled a lever. "Floor riddled with joy buzzers to shock him," he said, as electricity hummed through the cell. "A trapdoor that drops chattering teeth on him, with a real bite," he chuckled, as the ceiling fell in. "And last but not least, one of my favorites, an exploding whoopie cushion to end the party with a bang!" he chuckled, as an explosion was set off. "All gags that the realistic and gritty Mr. Harker would no doubt find ridiculous and silly. But the joke's gonna be on him, and it's gonna be a killer!"

He laughed hysterically. "So how are you gonna lure him here, puddin'?" asked Harley.

"I'm gonna leave that to you, my sweet little pumpkin pie," he said, smiling at her. "Get him here somehow. Say you've changed your mind about wanting to sleep with him or something, and lead him here. And then I'll spring the trap on him."

Harley looked uncomfortable. "Mr. J, are you sure you wanna kill him?" she asked. "He's a good actor and all, that's rarer than you'd think…"

"He insulted me, pooh!" cried Joker. "He's trying to steal my identity! I've killed people for a lot less than that!

"Yeah, but he's got real talent, Mr. J…and it's shaping up to be a pretty good movie…"

"You saying you want people to love him more than me?" demanded Joker. "You want people to hear the word 'Joker' and think of pretty boy Harker? You want me to be forgotten, Harley?"

"I'm sure that's not gonna happen, puddin'…"

"You just don't understand how fickle the public are, Harley," he sighed. "After all I've done for them, and they'll still turn on me. Bunch of ingrates. I give them smiles and laughter, but the moment a newer, flashier Joker comes along, they'll forget all about me."

"I could never forget about you, puddin'…"

He smiled. "Harley, c'mere," he murmured.

She approached him and he tilted her chin up gently. "You're a sweet kid, Harley, but the day I even remotely begin to care what you think is gonna be a cold day in hell. Now get your worthless ass out there and bring me Harker!" he shouted, kicking her out of the warehouse and slamming the door.

Harley sighed, picking herself up and rubbing her bottom. Then she went over to a payphone and put in a few coins. "Hello? Yeah, it's me. It's time."

She hung up the phone and waited, checking her watch from time to time. A moment later, a car drove up, and a man in a batsuit climbed out. "You sure you wanna do this?" asked Harley.

He nodded, and said in the same, gravelly voice, "Eddie's had fantastic results completely inhabiting his character, so I think it's best that I completely inhabit mine."

"And you sure you wanna use that voice?" asked Harley gently.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's just…nothing," sighed Harley. "Now here's a few tips for you, junior, seeing as you ain't the real deal. Don't let Mr. J reach for anything, but use your own utility belt to your advantage. You're also superior in terms of strength – if you've got him on the ground, don't be afraid to beat him until he's unconscious. That's what Bats normally does. I know it ain't fair, and I know it don't seem right, but killing Eddie just because he wants to play him ain't right either. Take him out as quickly as you can, and don't use the voice, or he'll know you ain't the real Bats. And I really, really hope this works," she sighed as the actor playing Batman headed toward the warehouse.

The Joker was whistling happily to himself when he was suddenly struck a blow to the back of the head, smashing his face into the wall. "What the…" he said, cupping his bloody nose and turning around to see Batman standing there.

"Batsy, what the hell?" he demanded, angrily. "You can't just sneak up on a guy and…"

Batman kicked Joker suddenly in the groin, making him fall to the ground. "Oh…ok…wow…" gasped Joker. "Well…if you're gonna fight dirty, so am I!" he snapped, reaching for his gun.

Batman seized the gun from his hand, punching him again. Joker kicked upward suddenly, hitting Batman in the groin, who started back, gasping in pain.

"Told you I was gonna fight dirty!" he snapped. "And don't you normally have protection there?"

"Yeah…I'm not wearing hockey pads," gasped Batman.

Joker stared at him, puzzled not just by the statement, but by the voice. "…what?" he demanded. "Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm Batman!"

"No, you ain't!"

"But I am," said a voice, and Joker felt a pair of handcuffs clamp down on his wrists.

He turned to glare at the real Batman standing behind him. "How long have you been there?" he demanded.

"Long enough to see you get kicked in the crotch," retorted Batman. "Made me smile, actually."

"Oh…wow, you really don't sound like that," said the actor, gazing at Batman in awe.

"No. But unlike the Joker, I'm not sensitive to any particular portrayals of me," retorted Batman. "I'm flattered that people want to imitate me in a safe, fictional environment, and I think each new version just adds to the mystery and dignity of my character."

He grabbed Joker by the wrists and led him away. He paused at the door and then added, "Except for the Bat-nipples. That was just wrong."

"Oh, yeah, whoever thought of that shoulda been shot," agreed Joker, shaking his head. "Crazy, I tell ya. Absolutely nuts."


	11. Chapter 11

"Wow. What a great movie! And what a Joker!" exclaimed Ivy as she, Selina Kyle, Harley Quinn, and the Joker left the movie theater. "I have never understood people's attraction to you before, J, although I guess nobody but Harley ever was attracted to you, but this version…oh, wow! So dark and disturbed and hot!"

"Oh yeah, I can really feel this Joker's pain," sighed Selina Kyle. "I love the darkness in him, the agony behind the smile. I've always liked deep, dark, and disturbed guys!"

"And I don't think we're the only ones," said Ivy, nodding at the huge line of fangirls in front of the theater, most of them wearing Joker makeup. "He's taken the cartoonish supervillain you are and made you into a total psychotic heartthrob! It's a miracle!"

The Joker said nothing. He had his arms folded across his chest and was glaring at the ground, as he had been doing since they left the theater. Harley cuddled him gently and kissed him. "What did you think of the movie, Mr. J?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Liked the pencil gag," he muttered.

Harley beamed. "That was my idea, Mr. J!" she exclaimed.

"Actually, it wasn't that funny," he snapped. "Hard to be funny without a whoopie cushion in sight."

"I think J's probably just jealous that everyone loves Harker Joker more than him," retorted Ivy, grinning. "I know I do."

"Well, I don't!" snapped Harley. "And I'm sure most people don't either! You can't judge everyone based on a load of screaming teenage fangirls – they like sparkly vampires, for God's sake! They ain't got no taste!"

At that moment, one of the teenage girls suddenly noticed the Joker. She shrieked and pointed, rushing over to him, and the army of fangirls followed her. "Oh, wait, never mind, girls, it's not the real Joker," she said, her face falling as she saw him. "Just some old guy in clown makeup. Why don't you grow up, grandpa?" she snapped.

The Joker was livid, reaching for the flower in his buttonhole. "Just let it go, J," snapped Ivy, grabbing his hand as Harley tried to drag him away. He suddenly sprayed a cloud of Joker toxin into the crowd.

"Joke's on you, isn't it, you bunch of brain-dead bimbos?!" he shrieked as Harley dragged him away amid the dying laughter. "Let's see your precious Harker tell a gasser like that!"

Back at their hideout, Joker didn't say a word, glaring at the TV with his arms folded firmly across his chest. Harley climbed into bed next to him and cuddled him. "Puddin'?" she said, kissing his cheek.

He grunted. "I didn't really enjoy the movie, y'know," said Harley. "I mean, the ending didn't make any sense. Why would Batman even need to sacrifice himself for the people of Gotham? Why wouldn't he just blame you…I mean…Harker's Joker, for the people who died? He'd been killing people the whole movie! I was laughing all the way through that big, meaningful ending speech about him being the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs, or whatever crap it was. And poor Harvey was just wasted. He's a pretty good villain, y'know – I dunno why they didn't do more with his character. And why do people always make Batman's alter ego Bruce Wayne? That don't make any sense at all. Do you think it's just a case of the unhealthy obsession with celebrity which defines our modern culture?"

Joker didn't respond. He just glared at the TV. "Yeah, I think it probably is," continued Harley. "Bruce Wayne must be pretty pleased about it, though – he can go around telling all the dames he's Batman. Probably why he has so many dames, huh, Mr. J?"

Joker continued to ignore her. "Yeah, but who can love a guy like that?" asked Harley. "A guy everybody loves ain't attractive. Never been a gal who went with popular taste, y'know. I knew the guy I loved had gotta be special. And then I met you, Mr. J, and I knew in that instant that you were my special guy. Who cares what the world thinks? There's only one Joker for me, and there's only one man for me. And that's you, Mr. J," she breathed, leaning forward to kiss him.

He still didn't respond, eyes fixed on the TV screen. "Aw, c'mon, puddin'," she murmured, stroking his hair back. "Why so serious?"

He suddenly seized her around the throat. "What…did…you…say?" he hissed furiously.

"N…nothing, puddin', I didn't mean it like that…" she stammered. He threw her away from him, focusing back on the TV.

"You watching the news?" he demanded suddenly.

Harley hadn't been, but she turned to see pictures of Edward Harker being flashed across the screen. "He's dead, Harley," muttered Joker. "He's killed himself. And he's won."

He slammed his fist down on the nightstand. "That clever bastard!" he hissed. "He's had the last laugh! He knew that was the only way to beat me! To die now, prematurely, at the height of his popularity, will ensure he's forever enshrined in the hearts and minds of the public! He's made himself into a martyr, and people are never going to forget him! Or his last role! He'll always be the Joker now! Always and forever!"

He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I should have killed him when I had the chance! Why does nothing I do ever work?! Back in the day, when people died, that was it! But now when people die, they're idolized and immortalized! There's gonna be books and stories and art about this guy floating around forever! He's become more popular than me, and now he always will be! Even if I killed myself now to equal him, no one would care!"

"I would, puddin'," breathed Harley. "And Batsy would. You're the only Joker to him too."

He lifted his head, smiling suddenly. "That's true, Harley. Bats doesn't prefer that other Joker to me. He didn't try to make him smile and and laugh like I did – he just tried to kill him! No style, no respect for tradition! Well, Batsy respects tradition! And I'll always have Bats!"

"And me," reminded Harley.

"Yeah, yeah, and you. But when a guy's got his nemesis, what more does he need?" sighed Joker. "And I have the real Bats as my nemesis, not this sore throat guy."

"And you got me, Mr. J," reminded Harley again, cuddling him. "This other Joker don't have an attractive gal like me who's crazy about him."

"True, pooh," he agreed, kissing her fondly. "I did get the girl in the end."

"Like I said, Mr. J, who cares what the world thinks?" whispered Harley. "You'll always be my one and only Joker."

She shut her eyes and sighed happily as he kissed her. Her eyes snapped open again suddenly when she heard the news say "…notes left written by the actor reveal just how thoroughly he researched his character. One of the pieces of information he noted down was that apparently Gotham's notorious supervillainess Poison Ivy had been having a long-term affair with the Joker, unbeknownst to the Joker's girlfriend, Harley Quinn. The pair, apparently by Poison Ivy's own admission, had engaged in several sexual encounters…"

Harley gaped at the TV, and then suddenly struck Joker a harsh blow across the face. "You bastard!" she shrieked. "You cheating, lying, filthy bastard!"

"But…pooh…it's not true…you know that!" exclaimed Joker, trying to fend off her blows. "Pammie and me hate each other! She probably just told Harker that to get him into bed! You know how method he was – he probably wouldn't have done it otherwise…"

She stopped hitting him suddenly. "Yeah, that does make sense, actually," she snapped. "I'm still gonna kill her for it, though! Now the whole world thinks you and Red are a couple!"

Joker grinned. "But like you just said, pooh, who cares what the world thinks…"

"Shut up, Mr. J!" she snapped. "This is completely different! This is about people thinking you'd cheat on me, and that ain't funny!"

Joker began chuckling madly. "No, but it is funny to think about Pammie's face right now! She's gonna be furious! I'm never gonna let her live it down either!"

He laughed hysterically. "I'm feeling much better already, pooh!" he exclaimed, kissing her. "Let's go to bed, huh?"

He kept giggling as he lay down, cuddling Harley gently against him. Harley couldn't help smiling, despite how angry she was at Ivy. She just loved the way he laughed. Nobody could ever replace her Joker, at least not in her heart.

She kissed him. "I love you, my Joker," she whispered.

He beamed. "The one and only, kiddo," he said, shutting his eyes. "The one and only."

**The End**


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